Don’t Touch That Dial : Radio: San Diego listeners get a chance to host an hourlong show each week on XTRA-FM (91X). They can pick their own music and say what they want on ‘Hey, Mom, I’m on the Radio.’

“The word pants will come up at least once,” warned Chad McCollum, moments before making his radio debut last Monday on XTRA-FM (91X).

Standing nearby, his friend Bob Tyler, a fellow recent graduate of Mira Mesa High School, nodded his head. Farm animals will also be mentioned, he added.

“Pants” and “farm animals” are simply funny words, explained McCollum, 19. “Pants just rolls off the tongue.”

Dressed in brown jump boots and jeans, with hair cropped above his ears, McCollum, a teen-age mod Mormon, was about to take over the airwaves of 91X, the self-proclaimed “cutting edge of rock,” as part of the station’s weekly “Hey, Mom, I’m on the Radio” segment.

Each Monday at 11 p.m., 91X brings in a listener like McCollum, chosen from the pile of cards and letters the station receives each week from people wanting to be on the program.

For one hour, they can do whatever they want; play whatever music they choose. A 91X disc jockey cues up the music and runs the audio board--and serves as sidekick, if requested--but the listener controls the program.

There is no censorship or filtering of the show, as long as the DJ-for-a-night doesn’t violate any obscenity or decency standards.

Although the segment is only 5 weeks old, XTRA has been receiving 25 to 30 cards a week from interested listeners. Music director Mike Halloran says he regularly accepts pizza bribes. One person recently sent in seven cards, each covered with cartoons.

McCollum got the gig because 91X staffers felt sorry for him. In his postcard he told a woeful tale of his impending mission for the Mormon church, in addition to his devotion to San Diego and to 91X. In July he leaves for two years of service in Washington, where he will be forced to forsake dating, radio music and most other aspects of teen-age life. He asked 91X for “one last hurrah.”

“Hey, hey, Chad here,” McCollum said into the microphone, introducing his show to San Diego.

Disc jockey Craig (“Just Craig . . . you know, it’s like Elvis, Madonna . . . Craig,” he explained) worked the audio board this night.

“Do you want Bad Manners before Blur or after Billy Bragg?” Craig asked McCollum.

Given McCollum’s church mission, Halloran figured they might get a “Donny Osmond type” when they chose him. But McCollum is no Donny Osmond.

After playing a song by a group called Ned’s Atomic Dust Bin, he chose a track from the Specials, a legend in the mod crowd.

“We were going to start mellow, maybe the Mormon Tabernacle Choir or Donny Osmond,” McCollum said on the air. “But the Specials are almost as religious as the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.”

Halloran said using the “Hey, Mom . . . “ participants is not an outrageous leap for the station, since most of the station’s disc jockeys purposely strive to sound natural and unprofessional--the anthesis of the stuffy disc jockeys at most stations.

“To me, (Chad) doesn’t sound nervous, he sounds like a real guy,” Halloran said, as Ned’s Atomic Dust Bin wafted through the studio.

But there is a risk involved. Even at 11 p.m., a station can alienate listeners by varying from the straight music playlist, which is one reason why no other local station does a similar show.

For 91X, though, the show fits the station’s rough image. Targeting progressive young rock ‘n’ rollers, 91X management tries to create an aggressive, spontaneous sound for the station, and they’re willing to take a few chances.

“If a station like 91X doesn’t do it, then we’re not doing what we’re supposed to do,” said program director Kevin Stapleford.

In between the hits of the English Beat, Madness and John Wesley Harding, McCollum and Tyler entertain themselves by handling phone calls from listeners.

Some, oblivious to the show in progress, try to request songs.

“If your name was Phil we would have taken your call,” McCollum tells a caller who wants a record played, before hanging up on him.

McCollum is sedate compared to some of his predecessors on the show. One re-enacted Steve Martin comedy sketches. Another used his moment of stardom to read prose.

McCollum and Tyler, who jokingly said they amuse themselves in their spare time “Dumpster dipping for money,” were conducting their own party, playing to the friends and relatives they knew were listening, sharing their own private jokes.

“Bob is lonely, but he’s keeping his pants on,” McCollum told the audience, slipping “pants” into the show for the first time.

Off the air, the callers, some confused by the unusual music as well as the unprofessional voice talking, provided plenty of entertainment for McCollum and Tyler.

“Dude, I even recognize your voice,” said a caller who apparently knew McCollum in high school.

Several of the callers asked for Bob, including Bob’s ex-girlfriend. “Is that Robby Tyler hanging out there?” asked another. Anna from Vista called to tell McCollum he’s “got a great voice.”

Back on the air, McCollum launched into a story

“You know I was involved in a crash once,” McCollum told the audience, explaining how he broke his leg.

“I just wanted to tell that story,” he said.

In many ways, this is what 91X wants from the show--an irreverent, unpredictable tone. “Hey, Mom, I’m on the Radio” grew out of a segment called “the Great Unknown,” which allowed a listener to go on the air with disc jockey Pam Wolf. The segment died a few months ago when Wolf left town.

However, Stapleford revived it as “Hey, Mom,” going a step further to allow the guest disc jockey to take complete control. Originally, the idea was for participants to bring their mothers on the air. That hasn’t happened, although one did bring a “substitute” mother, who brought brownies to the show.

More than anything, Stapleford wants the participants to bring their musical tastes.

“Our listeners are very music-intensive,” Stapleford said.

McCollum’s tastes are varied, to say the least. Soon after a song from a group called Blur, he played the Beatles’ “I Saw Her Standing There.”

“She was just 17, except in my case she was just 16,” he said on the air.

There was no audience to be heard chuckling, so he moved on.

“Craig, can I tell the story of my life?” he asked the DJ.

“Sure, it’s your show.”

McCollum moved into his life story. “Yes, I’m Mormon . . . .”

He said hello to his grandparents visiting from Oregon and his friends in Penasquitos. The calls kept coming in.

“Keep your pants on. . . . there I said it again,” McCollum told a caller, slipping in another pants reference.

One caller wanted to know if McCollum’s grandparents could give him a ride back to Oregon. That’s probably not a great idea, McCollum replied.

While a jaunty tune named “Nellie the Elephant” played, McCollum’s girlfriend called in.

“Can I mention your name on the radio?” he asked her.

“I’d like that,” she said, pointing out that she did stay awake for the show.

The search began for a song to close out the show. Bob pulled out a CD, which was quickly rejected.

“No, we need something louder,” McCollum said, finally settling on another song by the Specials.

On the air, an English Beat song was winding down.

“That one was for Ann Marie, my babe in Penasquitos,” McCollum said, back at the microphone.

After McCollum pointed out on the air that Bob is spelled the same backward and forward, a caller offered that he knew the longest palindrome sentence, and Craig suggested that McCollum put him on the air.

“This will be a first,” Craig said gleefully. “I like how the show is evolving.”

But the show was winding down, as the midnight hour approached.

Craig cued up the Specials tune, a raucous number that had McCollum and Tyler dancing in place.

“Can we sing along, I mean, on the air?” McCollum asked Craig.

“Sure, Chad, it’s your show.”

The program ended with McCollum and Tyler singing along to the Specials.